Hey Brother
by Southern Steel
Summary: "Hey brother, do you still believe in one another?" Collection of drabbles featuring our favorite Musketeers. All stories T or below with no slash. Chapter 2: Outcasts-They became inseparable, but there was a time when they were all outcasts.
1. His Boys

**_Hey ya'll! So I'm new to The Musketeers (I just discovered it last week and finished it in two days) but I'm completely in love with it and anxiously waiting for season two! In the meantime, I thought I would try my hand at writing about this awesome, awesome show. This is going to be a drabble collection with a little bit of anything and everything thrown in. I hope I get the character's personalities and voices right and do this show justice. If you notice anything wrong (as I said, very new to this fandom, so mistakes are likely) please do correct me. I love learning and making things as accurate as I possibly can! Hope you enjoy. :) _**

**Category: Modern AU  
>Setting: Modern times<br>Characters: Treville, Aramis, Porthos, Athos, d'Artagnen  
>RatingWarnings: K+  
>Summary: Days like this made him question why he had ever thought it a good idea to adopt the four little troublemakers.<strong>

**Author's Note: I hope you'll excuse my first drabble for being a modern AU. I couldn't get the idea out of my head and who can say no to cute little kid Musketeers? **

**Disclaimer: The Musketeers belongs to Dumas and the BBC. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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><p>His Boys<p>

Treville sighed for what had to be the fiftieth time in the past hour. Days like this made him question why he had ever thought it a good idea to adopt the four little troublemakers. Though not an expert by any means, he couldn't remember any other parent having as much trouble as he seemed to have.

"Porthos, put d'Artagnan down."

"But he likes it!" the ten year old protested, pouting slightly as he put the giggling four year old back on the ground.

"No buts, Porthos." Treville sighed and rubbed the bridge between his eyes, trying to stop the headache he knew was coming.

A crash from the next room over had him sighing again and he quickly left Porthos and d'Artagnan to find eight year old Aramis sitting on the floor surrounded by books he had managed to topple over. Six year old Athos sat on the cough, a small smile on his face, clearly amused.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Aramis?" Treville moaned, picking the boy up and swiftly checking for any injuries. "Do not play with the bookcase."

"But Athos wanted a story!" Aramis started wiggling, eager to be put back down.

"Did not." Athos protested. "You just wanted to see how high you could climb."

"Aramis!" Treville glared at the boy sternly.

Aramis turned to Athos and gave the younger boy a glare.

"Traitor!"

Athos just grinned. Before Treville could lecture Aramis, a squealing d'Artagnan ran into the room and scrambled onto the couch, pushing and prodding until he was hiding behind Athos as a grinning Porthos came running in.

"I've got you now, runt." The older boy called good-naturedly as he all but threw himself on the couch.

Athos's eyes widened and he made to jump away, but d'Artagnan's arms wrapped around his waist kept him there for a fraction to long. Then Porthos's arms wrapped around them both and pulled them up, holding tightly as the two struggled to free themselves, the four year old giggling madly.

"Wait for me!" Aramis called, wiggling until he slid free of Treville's arms.

No sooner had his feet hit the ground then he was throwing himself at his brothers, pinning the two youngest. Treville tried to hide it, but he couldn't stop a smile as he watched his boys struggle on the couch, the dog pile soon turning into a tickle war, with Athos and d'Artagnan on the bottom until they teamed up with Porthos against Aramis.

Treville shook his head at their antics, but didn't stop them. He turned away and started for the kitchen, Aramis's shrieks of laughter following him. Sure they were a troublemaking handful, but in the end they were his boys, troubles and all. And that's just how he liked it.


	2. Outcasts

_**I just want it known that I've never actually read **_**The Three Musketeers**_** by Alexander Dumas, so I'm basing this solely off of the TV show. If any of the characters or hints of backstories I've given are wrong, then I apologize. Also, I'm not certain if Aramis actually is Spanish, but because he speaks fluent Spanish in the show and I've seen it hinted at in other works, I went for it. **_

**Category: Gen****  
><strong>**Setting: Beginning of Season 1****  
><strong>**Characters: Athos, Porthos, Aramis, d'Artagnan, Treville.****  
><strong>**Rating/Warnings: K+****  
><strong>**Summary: They became inseparable, but there was a time when they were all outcasts.**

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><p><span>Outcasts<span>

Athos had come first. Dark, brooding, young and inexperienced but uncaring. He separated himself the moment he was commissioned—and that hadn't taken long at all, much to the other musketeers disgust. Some of them had waited years to be commissioned and here a newcomer had snatched one within a few weeks. He didn't set out to make friends, and none set out to befriend him. There was a grudging respect for the swordsman, but that was as far as it went.

Porthos came next. Set apart instantly for his background, he set out to prove himself. He practiced longer, fought harder, gave it everything he had. He fought tooth and nail for his commission and no one could deny that he had earned it. But they separated themselves from him. He was friendly, tried to make friends, but no one would approach the fresh musketeer. He wondered until the brooding man who never said a word offered to help him with his form.

Aramis came third. His presence was instantly resented and many called for the Spaniards head, regardless of how long he had been in France. A Spaniard was a Spaniard. He let the insults blow right past, ignoring them with a laugh that hid the lonely pain. He proved himself, won the commission fair and square, but that didn't stop the men from ambushing him that night. He was a good fighter, an excellent marksman, but ten to one is never fair. He was surprised as much as his attackers when two loners came to his defense.

D'Artagnan was the last. He came in with a bang, revenge on his mind and a challenge on his lips. He was thrown into the musketeer world before he was sure what was happening. But he never looked back. He was friendly with all, but attached himself to the three he had first fought. Whispers surrounded the farmer boy, and his youthful rage kept him separate from the others. He would have nothing to do with those who talk behind a person's back and he fought for the commission to prove that he was better than them.

Treville had been there from the beginning. He watched as the four were outcast, as they each earned the grudging respect and eventual admiration from the other musketeers. He had watched over them, seen the Three Inseparables formed, and he had worried about the boy who had wedged his way into their group and become the fourth. He would never say it, not even if you threatened his life, but he was proud of the four musketeers he had watched grow from lonely outcasts to the best musketeers he had ever seen.


End file.
